


Ikigai

by PinkHydrangea



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-08-08 08:36:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7750717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkHydrangea/pseuds/PinkHydrangea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The stories of a queen and her trusted retainers. // Ikigai, 生き甲斐 - lit. "a reason for being," passion, purpose, something one lives for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ikigai

**Author's Note:**

> MAN OKAY SO Kagero mentioned in her support with Corrin that before she served Ryoma, she was Mikoto's retainer, and so. um. i love the whole Mikoto/Orochi/Kagero/Reina dynamic and they're all the best so this hellbeast was born. i don't even really know what it is??? it's like. gonna be random short stories about them being wonderful and cute.  
> also, Kagero also tells Corrin in their supports that the reason she's in the army is because she has an older brother who was too sick to serve, so while his name is made-up because she never refers to him by any one, he is not. i went through like three names until i found one that i liked.  
> basically you guys should just do kagero's support with corrin it's a really good one.

The summer day was terribly thick, as heavy as a rock on Kagero, especially as she sat in the ceremonial garb the teacher had forced her into. The layers were beginning to stick to her skin, but the job of a lady was to act as though nothing fazed her, so she kept her little hands against her knees and her spine straight as a stick and watched the teacher, a gentle-looking woman with dark red hair, spin the tea in the cup.

“The appearance… can you never make anything pretty?” she muttered. “What a fragrant scent, but how foreboding it is! It fills me with dread.”

Kagero sniffed, ducked her head, and looked away as the teacher continued to observe the tea and grumble. She found Obi in the field, pushing himself much too hard- his legs shook.

“Kagero? Little one?”

He was breathing much too hard.

“Kagero!” A firm hand clamped against her jaw, startling her plenty, and jerked her back to the lesson. The teacher looked exasperated, her nose all scrunched up. “You must stop staring at your brother, little miss. This is a lesson, not your free time.”

“Yes, ma’am,” she whispered. “I’m sorry my tea was disappointing.”

The woman huffed and leaned back, hiding her hands in her sleeves. She looked much more like a noble than Kagero ever would, and she felt a sinking sense of dread. “The appearance was bleak, the scent terrifying, but the taste was rather lovely.”

“Thank you.” She bowed close to the wood of the patio.

“But, for the sake of the gods, child, make something pretty for once in your life!” the teacher scolded. “I’ve never felt such despair as when I look at your tea, your flowers, and especially your painting. It’s no way for a noble woman to be, all dreary and- and _terrifying_.”

She heard the sound of a shuriken hitting a wooden block, a very familiar noise, and Kagero nearly forgot to respond to the teacher, who was staring at her with pressed lips and slightly flared nostrils. She was mad. She was always mad after the lessons, but Kagero couldn’t help it- making things the way she saw them was much easier than making things all pretty and fluffy and like everything else. But that wasn’t proper. It was disturbing. Noble ladies were not disturbing. They were gentle and sweet and as bright as a spring day, not as heavy and intense as the summer.

She sighed. “Anyway, little miss, your lessons are over for the day. Go fawn over your brother as much as you wish. I will take my leave.”

She did not need to be told twice. The moment the teacher was out of sight, the last of her kimono fluttering away, she pulled at the string of the obi and slipped the top layer of her clothes off, immediately sighing at the release. The teacher had tied it too tight again, like she always did. Kagero threw the clothing away, gently, careful to not wrinkle the garments, and flopped down onto the hot wood, gazing out onto the field and watching her brother pant and huff and toss weapon after weapon. His aim was true, but his hand was unsteady, and he was so pained that he always forgot to account for the wind. He did his best. He had natural talent. But he was so sick.

“Kagero!”

The voice of her mother was disappointed, and she sighed and slumped harder against the floor. The woman scurried in, her hair pulled up smoothly and elegantly, and immediately plucked up the top robes and sandals. She looked down at her daughter with a look of frustration, maybe a bit of confusion, and then followed her gaze to the field.

“Behave properly, please,” she said after a moment. “I’ll go fold these for you. And make sure he doesn’t fall over.”

“Yes,” she responded, and then quiet came and she heard the sound of cicadas once more.

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. Chirp. The sounds of a usual summer day. The scent of her tea still wafted through the air, pungent in the heat, and it almost tickled her nose so badly that she sneezed- it smelled like burning herbs, and she quite enjoyed it. Her brother threw another shuriken, then another, to match the innumerable amount he’d already thrown during her tea preparation.

He was weak. His bones were brittle, he got sick much too easily, and he needed too much sleep. There was no way he was going to become a ninja, no matter how hard he tried, but, boy, did he ever try. Every day, no matter rain or shine, he was out there, working and working, and no matter what their parents said, he would not be swayed. He wanted to serve the royal family. He wanted to go to Shirasagi.

“Kagero.”

She lifted her face from the wood and looked at him. He was a sweaty mess and his hands were bruising where he held the weapons so tightly day after day, but he still looked at her with such a great affection that she felt she could ignore giving an attempt at scolding him. He looked at her like she was a princess, much more than she could ever ask from her teacher.

“Are you hot?” he asked. “Your lesson is over. You can go inside.”

She got to her knees and rubbed at her cheek, right where the wood had imprinted itself, and grimaced. “You’ll overwork yourself if someone isn’t watching you.”

He laughed and yanked a hand through his hair. He stopped and stared at the block of wood, which was surrounded by more shuriken than there were actually in it. “I’ll be fine.”

She looked at his bruised hands. “I want to stay out here.”

Obi crossed the length of the field and hopped up next to her. Their feet dangled from the raised patio, but his were almost able to touch the ground. Hers dangled almost embarrassingly at just the length of his knees.

“I’m not going to fail,” he told her. “I’m going to bring our family honor.”

His hands were starting to blister. She put her head against his shoulder and listened to the cicadas scream and pretended he was telling her the truth. “I know.”

* * *

 Kagero’s mother was a simple woman. She was a wife, mother, and artist who never stopped thinking of what was the best for her two children. She was constantly begging Obi to give up, forget his duties, and pressing Kagero to do her best at her womanly and noble lessons. Her face went white whenever she stumbled in on her youngest holding onto a weapon, a katana or a shuriken, and once she had even almost fainted when she saw her actually practicing with them.

“You mustn't touch these, Kagero,” and she would beg rather than scold. “You don't need them.”

So, Kagero packed up the weapons and training gear in a bag, said she was going out to paint, and repeated the process every few days. Her parents and brother were none the wiser. If her mother didn't want her to, she wouldn't touch weapons- not in her presence, that was. She was a lady, and ladies were polite enough to not give their mothers heart attacks.

The place she had selected that day was a lovely field dotted with pink and purple wild flowers, flourishing in the summer moisture. A river ran through it, slow and lazy but strong, and Kagero made sure to stay away from it while she set up her supplies. Slow as it may’ve looked, rivers were still dangerous foes, capable of carrying a child like her away with ease.

It was a lovely river, though. Kagero wondered how she would paint it- maybe with red paints for the water, like boiling blood. That would certainly be unique. Maybe if she did it the right way, it could even be pretty. Regardless if it was pretty or not, her father would certainly pin it on the wall, and everyone in their house would stare at it until they could figure out something nice to say about it, genuine or not.

The midsummer heat beat down even through the trees, straining to burn her skin. The metal of the practice shuriken she picked up was already hot, but soon cooled down at her touch. An unsuspecting tree to her right rustled just a bit as the dulled blades nicked the wood and clung weakly to the bark. To her dismay, it fell almost immediately.

“Darn,” she whispered to herself. She reached for another.

She’d almost gone through the bag completely when a rustling behind her thoroughly startled her. Had someone followed her? Was it a servant? A bear? She brandished the shuriken and tensed as the cracking of branches grew closer, threatening to reveal danger, but instead, only a girl came out, stepping gracefully over a log.

She couldn't have been much older than Kagero- maybe 10 at most. Her hair was a gentle, meek lavender pulled up into a bun and placed with an elegant comb, though twigs and leaves poked around it. Her kimono was much too fine to be wandering around the forest, but she looked confident with a bag slung over her chest and a basket laden with flowers in her hand.

She stared. Kagero lowered her shuriken, and wondered just what to do. The odd girl blinked, then tilted her head and smiled. “Hello!” she chirped.

“Hello,” Kagero responded.

The girl approached her with sparkling eyes and a cheerful skip to her step. She looked behind Kagero at the bag, then at the shuriken littered along the ground. “A ninja?” she asked. “Why are you out here?”

She was friendly. Very. “Because,” Kagero said, kicking at the ground.

“Because?” the mystery girl echoed. “What a silly reason.”

She took another step forward, her basket swinging back and forth, and Kagero took a step back. The babbling of the river invaded her hearing, but the deep purple eyes of the girl had her captivated. When was the last time she was around a girl her age? It was a long time ago. No one wanted their daughter to befriend the offspring of a family reluctant to offer up their son to his birthright.

The girl opened up her mouth to say something again, but her eyes flew wide open and her jaw clamped in surprise. Kagero looked down and saw the toe of the girl’s foot catch on a root. She took a step back and the girl fell forward, then stumbled again, and again, until she crashed right into Kagero. It was really ill befitting of a lady, sure, but Kagero couldn't help but yelp as the ground gave way from under her and the freezing water slapped her back.

Water flooded her ears and her nostrils, and panic rushed through her. She could hear the rush and bubble of the current, could make out the flailing form of the odd girl, and grabbed her. The river struggled to force her down, but she kicked until their heads broke the surface.

It burned when liquid began to stream out of her nose and there were frightened tears in her eyes, but Kagero decided to hold it together for the sake of the other girl, who was coughing and wheezing and looked positively shaken. The fear was starting to ebb away. The warmth of the sun was relaxing her already, and the river had let go its grip on them. The water rushed around them harmlessly, and she felt silly for being so scared- what would Obi say if he knew?

“It’s okay.” Kagero grabbed the shoulders of the girl, who had lost her comb, had hair all around her face, and was still sputtering. “It's-”

“My basket,” she finally gasped. Her finger splashed up from the water and she pointed. The basket had caught against some rocks, but the current was jostling it out of place. “Th-There are herbs in there I need to take to the castle!”

The castle? If this girl wasn't crazy or dizzy from confusion, it would certainly explain her fineries. Based on the way she was floundering around and straining out her hand for the land, she couldn’t swim, and wasn’t really all that likely to be able to pursue her basket.

“Can you get it?” she asked. Kagero had set her safely against the side of the river; she clutched the rocks and looked dolefully at the basket, which was seconds away from being swept away from its own rocks. “I-I can’t swim. I can’t get it.”

The current whipped around her waist and was chilly. Her legs were already tired from pulling them up to the top and to the side. Her arms were numb from throwing her shuriken before the whole mess had happened, but still, Kagero sighed and pushed away from her new companion. If the girl was telling the truth and those herbs were for the castle, then wasn’t it her duty to make sure they were safe? Well, actually, it would've been Obi’s.

The basket ripped away from the rocks and began a very swift journey down the river. She grit her teeth and kicked her legs harder, shaking her hair out of her face, and ripped through the water. She’d been so close to touching it only seconds before, and she was losing it very fast. The other girl was rushing alongside her on the land, looking anxiously at her basket as it went farther and farther.

Kagero pushed off of a rock and accelerated. She was gaining on the basket. It rustled and dropped a few flowers as it went, and she began to fear that it would be completely empty before she caught it.

A little more. Just a little more. Her arms stretched out as far as they could go, she kicked once more, and then she had the very edge of the basket against the pads of her fingers. A sensation of relief crashed down on her as she took it completely. The purple-haired girl on the bank was squealing with joy, clapping her hands together, and seemed utterly thrilled despite the fact that she was soaking and liable to become ill.

“You got it!” she exclaimed. She took the basket from Kagero and stepped back as the she yanked herself from the water. Her makeshift practice clothes were heavy with water and clutched to her uncomfortably. The grass became wet under her. “I can’t believe you actually got it.”

“Some things came out,” she told her. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s fine,” the girl chirped. She began to hoist the flowers from the basket and set them aside. “What I really need is on the bottom.” Out of the basket then came tightly woven containers, and when the strange girl popped off the lids, fragrant herbs appeared. “I started to pick those flowers just for fun.”

Kagero glared down the bank. They’d drifted far enough when they’d fallen already, but she’d swam even further away. At least she’d have the chance to dry out before she got home. “Oh.”

“I’m Orochi,” the girl continued on. She looked at Kagero with a glitter in her eye. She looked exactly like magic. “I like you. What’s your name?”

Her cheeks were heating. Kagero gripped a clump of hair and moved it out of her face, looking away from the girl’s starry eyes. “Kagero. I live nearby.”

“Kagero.” Orochi held out a hand and smiled. “You have a lovely shadow.”

* * *

 Orochi was the daughter of a diviner from the castle, the most trusted in the entire court. The queen Ikona frequently called upon them in her times of need and fear, times when Nohr pressed too closely, and Orochi had begun to pick up on her mother’s talents for reading the future. Kagero’s mother and brother had been immediately taken with her fortunes when she’d begun to visit, and Orochi, when she came, always had her cards and incense ready.

Orochi’s mother came along a few times, pleased to mingle with other nobility, though, if Kagero did say so herself, they were nowhere near the rank that Lady Aiya was. Her family was near the bottom of the chain, hardly better off than the average Hoshidan family- Lady Aiya and Orochi were near the top and lived in the palace most of the time. Orochi’s mother was tall and elegant, wore fashionable robes, and was always giddy to see Kagero’s newest creations.

Orochi’s father, however, was a nice man, but not quite so gentle or elegant as his wife.

“Mother and Father don’t like each other,” Orochi told her one day while they painted together. Obi was out in the field, practicing with a sword. Kagero watched him carefully.

“They don’t?” she asked.

“They get along fine,” Orochi continued, “but Father much prefers smoking over my mother.” She looked down at her paper, filled with glops of orange paint, and held it up to the sky. She then said, with such a matter-of-fact voice that it chilled Kagero, “He’s going to die soon.”

Her hand jumped and the paintbrush created a terrible streak across the face of the cat she was painting- then again, everyone always perceived her creations as so hideous, so maybe no one would even notice the mistake.

“The apothecary back at home says that he drinks and smokes too much. He’s got something wrong with his organs now.”

“Are you sad?” Kagero asked quietly. A leaf fell from a tree, golden and crumpled at the edges. Autumn was almost over. She wondered how she would create the gold she saw on the trees.

Orochi furrowed her brow and lowered her scribble back into her lap. “I guess. But he never really talked to me much anyway.”

Orochi’s father passed the following month, and she visited as normal.

* * *

 “Kagero, watch your brother,” her mother asked.

A thick blanket of snow settled over the world. The steaming hot day she had met Orochi, a day of fate, as the apprentice diviner called it, seemed like it had just been yesterday, and so her head spun whenever she looked at the white world. The trees were completely free of their leaves. Kagero had finally created the gold they’d shown her last week, but her teacher bemoaned the way she used such a delicate color.

Obi was panting louder than usual. She and her mother watched him silently for a few passing minutes, and then she looked up to her mother and nodded. A flurry of snow began, and a servant came to bring hot tea and a blanket before going back inside and sliding the door shut, leaving Kagero with just the snow and her older brother.

He’d lost weight in the past months- exactly thirteen pounds, said the doctor, which wasn’t healthy for a boy of sixteen. Again and again, their mother begged him to stop, insisted that the castle didn’t need anymore servants, but whenever Obi heard the mutterings of people in town, the doubts about his family, he pressed himself and worked harder. Kagero worried that his body would break.

She remembered something that had happened early in the autumn. She’d told her brother, “I can go to the castle instead. I’m strong. I practice.” His eyes had welled with tears and he’d told her to go away. The next time she tried to tell him that she would go, he threatened to whack her over the head with his wooden practice katana, or to tell Mother. Which one was worse, Kagero still had trouble deciding.

He was swinging strong, however, and so Kagero looked away, up towards the gray sky, and took a sip of her tea. Sweet. Much sweeter than how she made it. She wondered if her tea was supposed to be sweet. Her tea was good, people told her that much, but was the tea of a noble girl supposed to be overwhelmingly sweet? Was she a disappointment if she didn’t make it like such? She’d try hard to make it sweeter the next time she made it. She’d give some to Obi, then to Orochi, and then to her father, when he came back from his mission in the southern region.

Maybe Obi was becoming stronger. Maybe Kagero wouldn’t have to live up to the family expectation. She would spend out her days learning to become a proper noblewoman, she’d focus on how to make her painting pretty, and she’d marry into another family and have children, who would become royal servants as well. It would be a peaceful life. Somehow, however, whenever she thought of it, her stomach sank and tightened.

Only a second after she set her teacup down, she heard a heavy thunk. The white world seemed to go even quieter. The white of her breath swirled in the air as she looked back to the practice field, and her heart sunk when she didn’t see Obi standing up, but instead lying face first in the snow. His sword was just out of reach of his hand, and he wasn’t moving.

“Obi?” she called out.

No response. A crow took off from a tree. Snow flumped to the ground.

“Obi?!”

Kagero jumped from where she knelt and leapt down from the porch. Her feet landed against a patch of ice and she fell backwards, but got to her knees and began to crawl before she fully regained her balance and stood up again. He seemed too far away. It was taking her too long to reach him. It felt like a hundred years before she was kneeling beside him and pushing his body over, desperately trying to get him onto his back. She hissed as something sharp bit into her knee, and out of the snow she pulled a practice shuriken that had probably been buried back before the snow had started. The skirt of her robe was turning scarlet, but it didn’t matter.

“Obi?!” She reached down and brushed the snow from his face. His jaw was slack, his eyes were closed, but when she leaned over to check his heartbeat, she felt the warmth of his breath stir against her ear.

Her heart pounded- when was the last time? The last time she felt so anxious? Not even when she and Orochi had fallen into the river. Maybe this was the first time that she’d ever felt so cold and afraid. Maybe Obi was going to die in her arms.

“Somebody!” She hadn’t raised her voice in a long time, either. “Somebody, help him! Help my brother!”


End file.
